Goodbye yellow brick road
by cassiavenezuela
Summary: Simon, Baz, Penny, Agatha and Shepard head to Watford in order to save it. What happens when Simon decides it's best for everyone to walk away from a fight? Will Baz wait for him? Will the Coven figure out what is threatening Watford? Will Simon find his truth?
1. Chapter 1

_This story takes place after Wayward Son._

_I will use different song lyrics in this story, mostly by Bernard John Taupin, who writes the lyrics for Elton John. _

BAZ

It's been two weeks.

_This boy's too young to be singing the blues_

I park the car, turn off the ignition - and sit quietly to listen to the rest of the song.

Two weeks.

6 thousand songs, most of fall, several Keats poems and 20 packs of cigarettes.

_I should have stayed on the farm_

_I should have listened to my old man_

I am a bad cliche. A teenage gay vampire, bent on the road towards self-destruction, with an excelent sense of fashion and a bad habit of reading sad poetry. A broken- hearted fool, who can't stop glancing back at every curly haired bloke that passes by - but it is never you.

I was afraid of coming home. Afraid of the consequences of what we did, afraid of my father, afraid of losing Simon. I thought if I could have Simon, everything else would be fine.

I was wrong.

The Coven was too busy with the trouble at Watford to notice three teenagers causing havoc in America; my father just asked me why I hadn't answered Daphne's texts in a week, and don't I know she worries about me? I wanted to shout _there are organized vampires in Las Vegas_! and _I will live to 300! _But I did none of those things. He would probably just say I shouldn't mention my _condition _out loud.

In the end, there was no trial, no one ripped my fangs out, my name wasn't removed from the book, the Coven didn't take my wand from me.

I still had lost the one thing that matters.

SIMON

The day when we came home, I finally decided I was going to start living my best life. No more binge drinking. No more avoiding my therapist. No more pretending to be a hero I'm not. No more dragging Baz down with me, even if it means breaking both our hearts in the process.

BAZ

I don't remember the flight home or the cab drive. Simon's sternness was so unlike him that day, I knew something was off. It was like watching the seconds before a terrible car crash, when you can almost see the metal twisting in slow motion; you smell burnt rubber before the accident actually happens.

I couldn't tell if he was so hunched forward in his seat because his wings bothered him under his coat, or if he couldn't sit straight because of tiredness. I remember the warmth of his fingers as he held mine, and how he determinedly refused to meet my eyes. He hopped off the cab when we reached my flat, and told Bunce "I'll see you at home".

Because, of course, my life is a bad, sad, predictable cliché, drizzle softly started falling around us.

"_Of rain and hail-stones, lovers need not tell._"

"Snow - are you quoting Keats to me?"

He finally met my eyes.

"Baz, I don't know how to do this. I thought I could be your terrible, normal boyfriend - but I don't know how that is -"

This can't be happening to me, I thought. There were very few certainties in my heart, Simon being first and foremost. I knew I wasn't terrible, or a monster, or a freak - because someone nice actually likes me. You, Snow.

He liked me.

"You left a poetry book behind, one day. It confused me, I don't think I understood any of it - and then there was this line... _Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all. _And I thought: this is exactly like Baz. Baz is always truthful, and beautiful. It was like someone had looked inside my chest and saw exactly how I felt, when not even I could explain it."

I half choked, half laughed, and sternly thought: you are a vampire. You have just survived America, the Midwest sun, a crazy sect, and getting drunk with a bloke that wanted you to actually drink from people. You are _not_ going to cry now.

Simon put one of his stupid, warm, lovely hands on my face and held it as if it was precious. A single traitorous tear trickled down my face, and Simon gently brushed it aside.

"I had loads of time to think during this trip, and in the plane back here. I thought I was going to find myself in America. I thought Penny could help me, or you. But you can't tell me who I am, can you?"

"Of course I can!" I exploded. "You are Simon fucking Snow, former Chosen One by everyone!", I shouted. He grimaced, and I continued: "But now only chosen by me! Which is apparently insufficient, mind you!"

He let out an audible sight, and continued: "But why would you choose me, Baz? Just to keep your word? I think you haven't fully understood who I am now, or who you are - and I need to figure out what my truth is, before I offer it to you."

_My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains_

_My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk._

I was crying in earnest now, all the ugly glory of it: I felt my eyes turning puffy. There was the indignation of a runny nose, because the humiliation had to be complete.

"When I know what my truth is - I'll find you. And then you'll decide whether you want it or not."

He turned away then, and if I had a little less dignity, I'd have begged him to stay. But I didn't; instead, I watched him slowly fading away into the rain.

SIMON

This was more difficult than facing the Humdrum. When you face villains, you never thought _I am sorry, horrible creature, for killing you_. But now I wanted to lay down in the middle of the road and cry. _I am sorry, Baz, for breaking your heart_.

"Snow!"

Baz had ran after me, and was angrily pulling at my wrist and tying something around it.

"If you lose my mother's scarf, I'll kill you".

He ran back to his flat, and disappeared into the night.

PENELOPE

We hadn't been back from America for 3 hours, and I was already packing a new bag.

"Simon! Is that you? Do you want me to pack your things for Watford?"

"I'm not going-"

I turned around, a pair of white, clean, knee-high socks in my left hand.

"Sorry, WHAT? What part of Watford is in danger-"

"Penny, I'll just get in your way - and in Baz's. The only reason I survived America was because both of you! I'll stay here, keep the flat clean and figure out what to do with the rest of my Normal life, while you go and save the day."

"Don't be ridiculous, Simon! I can't do this on my own!"

Someone cleared their throat behind us.

"Uh… guys? Agatha just texted me. She'll be here in an hour."

Wait - Agatha had Shepard's number?

"Exactly, Simon!" I shouted. "Agatha just went to get her car, she's driving us to Watford. We need to go! Something's not right!"

"Are you going?" Simon asked Shepard.

"Well…"

"Of course he is! I'll need help!" I say.

Simon quietly observes me. He looks down, grabs a pair of socks and neatly rolls them into a ball.

"I don't think I will be much help."

"Simon! You could help us figure out what's wrong!"

"You are the one good at that, Penny. You guys don't need my help." He hesitates for a second, and hands me my socks. "I am starving - do you guys want to eat something before you go?".


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

SIMON

This is so not going as planned.

From: cinnamon_bun .uk

To: 

_Dear Baz,_

_My therapist says it is good for me to write to you. She says I can tell you things I don't have the courage to tell you in person._

_I'm sorry, Baz._

_I wish I didn't remember that day - when I told you I couldn't keep going as before. For the first time, I ran away from a fight._

_I'm not worthy of you. I know you don't agree with me, but -_

_It's like you are a solid candidate to become the next vampire king, and I am a solid candidate to become an uber driver. A Normal uber driver._

_You are definitely better off without me._

_Love,_

_Simon._

I kept looking at the tiny cursor on the top of the page. Penny had left her old laptop behind when she left for Watford, and I was trying to write Baz for the millionth time. Penny kept me updated on what was going on in our old school: kids were getting sick for no reason, people were losing their magic, but it wasn't like the Humdrum. It was more like they couldn't find the right words to make magic bend to their will anymore. To be honest, it didn't seem like an attack, but the Coven was planning to gather there in about a month. Penny had said they'd even summoned magicians from Scotland, Wales and Ireland.

(She didn't seem alarmed, and I wasn't sure if that's because everything was under control or because she didn't want me to be afraid for them).

I was keeping my best Normal life under control as best as I could. I was, of course, skint. I had spent the last of my money to enroll in an intensive driving course, where I spent most of my time last week. I liked how I could just turn off my brain when driving, focusing on the clutch and the pedals instead. I was daydreaming about going for an advanced driver's course (_Simon Snow, get away pilot_!) when the doorbell rang.

I skipped two steps at a time, half expecting to see a floral shirt or white knee-high socks when I opened the door, but I found an old lady instead.

She took off her massive sunglasses, and asked:

"Excuse me, dear. Do you live in flat 3B? Are you Simon Snow?"

"Uh, yeah"

I frowned. She had very flat, short blond hair which was obviously coloured, and she was wearing clothes that looked wrong for an old lady. I think maybe her trousers were made of leather?

"I know this may seem like a shock, honey. But I - I think I'm your grandmother. Can I come in?"

BAZ

I stare at the ceiling of my tent.

I haven't been to London since I came to Watford, two weeks ago. Me, Penny and Agatha are trying to help the Coven understand what is going on here. Shepard is also here, but I think he is just trying to understand us all. We are living in magical tents, which were placed besides the football pitch. They are much bigger on the inside than the outside, and someone ridiculously called them Emergency Rooms.

My family didn't know or care about America. Penny wasn't so lucky - her mother said she was grounded and therefore not allowed to help; that lasted for a week. I don't think anything can stop Hurricane Penny, not even Headmistress Bunce.

Penny's mother was particularly furious about Shepard and how much he knew about us. She tried to erase his memory three different times ( I'd never seen anyone cast _waiting for Godot_ so angrily) and when that didn't work, she agreed to help him figure out how he is different from other Normals. I like this about Headmistress Bunce - she manages to see different shades of grey. With my father, things are either black or white.

Shepard was now sitting in the bunk bed under me, swiftly whistling and singing this annoying song I can't get out of my head.

_When are you gonna come down?_

_When are you going to land?_

Students are not supposed to have cellphones in Watford, but I figure that rule does not apply to me anymore. I haven't yet answered Snow's idiotic message, and I am not sure I know how. In how many ways can you say: _stop being such an idiotic fool, you idiot! I have loved you since I thought you were going to murder me, I will love you now - even though you have no magic! I'd give up my magic for you, in fact, if only it meant that you would love me back_!

I haven't been myself since I read that e-mail, and Shepard seems to notice. He will make small talk even with the Centaur if allowed, but hasn't spoken to me in a while. I silently jump off the bunk bed and leave the tent to go hunting, leaving his deafening heart beat behind.

SIMON

I stare at the old lady for a full minute before realizing I am staring, and then stare at my shoes instead.

She is sitting in our living room couch, and hasn't said a word since she came in.

"So… do you live here by yourself?"

"No, not really. I share with a friend." More awkward silence.

"Look… I am sure you have some wrong information. I don't think I have grandparents. I am an orphan, and-"

She was so furious when she looked at me again, I was silent.

"I have been looking for you for a long time, Simon. There are many things I can't explain to you right now, but I'll tell you this: You were my Lucy's baby. You can't know that, but you look very much like her: her hair was fairer than yours, but just as curly; you have the same freckles she had when she was your age." She suddenly stood up, kneeled in front of me, and took my right hand in her left.

"He took both of you away from me, and it took me a while to find you - but I am never letting you go, ever again".


End file.
